


Lady Lazarus

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The common ground between them is stained heavily in blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady Lazarus

**Author's Note:**

> [Smauguh's AU: Anna and Lucifer as blood obsessed killers.](http://smauguh.tumblr.com/post/70625029047/au-anna-and-lucifer-as-blood-obsessed-killers)
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of services. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

Whether in a foul mood or in high spirits, he always kisses the color red off of her fingertips. 

He will cradle her hand, let his thumb slide across the palm of her hand until her fingers stretch out for him. He’ll grace her with a smile, rough lips parting to kiss the tip of each finger. His lips soon become painted red, pink tongue collecting the pigment until it’s smeared and no more. This is how they communicate when words are insufficient, a language of red blood cells.

Anna found Lucifer long ago, before the tumultuous and infamous archangel was released from his prison. She found him through the observation and thicket of free will, in the sliding of doubt and through her eyeing of rebellion. 

To be stationed on Earth for thousands of years and put faith in a Father who has abandoned his own family — perhaps his own creed?! To have never seen the face of your own Father — the more she thought of it, the more it made her forehead crease in question. Anna marvels in the creation of thoughts so astray from the ordained rules of Heaven, brushing her fingers against emotions that should be forbidden for any angel to experience and they’re raw and alive. They spark at her touch in a way that sends her wings into a series of shivers and shakes. That is where she found Lucifer and the beauty in free will. 

They were both fallen leaders, fearless and painfully blunt on what they both want. He stitched her back together, threading charred Grace and dust, pouring her eyes back into her sockets after her incident with Michael. Lucifer sang softly and reformed her, murmuring quietly into her crisp ear that sometimes attacking is the best defense. It consisted of spilled blood, reminding Heaven’s unfortunate soldiers that she _is_ the sharpest tool in the shed and they _will_ feel her sting. The tactician, leader and warrior burned a hole in Heaven’s reserve, dipped her fingers in ripped open backs as they stared in horror at the dead angel made anew. 

The dead have risen, a Lady Lazarus with blood-stained teeth. 

_'O my enemy.  
Do I terrify?’_

Lucifer is always there to join her in the kill, both enamored by the vivid brightness of blood. He’s always there to kiss the blood off her fingers. To drag his own stained hands across her sides until they leave streaks of red. She’ll run her fingers across his scalp and watch him suck the blood off her skin on his knees until she’s trembling. They relish in the aromas of smoke and blood until it becomes too much of a high, ending with the younger angel pulling at Lucifer’s clothes with carnal urgency. He’s always reverent and patient, chiding her with her old name in a dying language… 

It’s difficult to deem a language as flourishing when its native speakers are dropping around them. 

They’ve made their nest in an abandoned cabin, the past occupants only worn stains on the porch that Nature continues to slowly clean. Both are lounging on the bed, the mattress covered with odd ends of clothes, fabrics, pillows, blankets and other materials that causes them only to sink into the makeshift nest. Anna is curled up against the archangel, head tucked under his chin and both reading the worn tome in Lucifer’s hands. Occasionally he’ll turn his head, nose through her spilled blood locks, rumbling with possessive content. 

Anna stretches against Lucifer at the sound of chatter, tilting her head to the right. Heaven foolishly continues to think they’ve blocked her, but she remains tethered to Heaven’s channels. She can hear the angels fret and worry, Michael’s barking orders and a vain search out for them. “They’re searching for us… They’re trying Omaha, this time,” she relays and Lucifer nods, closing the book and setting it aside. 

“Let’s meet them. We don’t want to disappoint.”

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to Sylvia Plath's Lady Lazarus. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_


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